s, Helen. 'Open confession is good for the soul,'
you know, and I shall treat myself to a good dose while the mood is
on.

"You know, of course, that I was once engaged to Miles Lesley. You
also know that that engagement was broken last autumn for unexplained
reasons. Well, I will tell you all about it and then mail this letter
speedily, before I change my mind.

"It is over a year now since Miles and I first became engaged. As you
are aware, his family is wealthy, and noted for its exclusiveness. I
was a poor school teacher, and you may imagine with what horror his
relatives received the news of Miles's attentions to one whom they
considered his inferior. Now that I have thought the whole matter over
calmly, I scarcely blame them. It must be hard for aristocratic
parents who have lavished every care upon a son, and cherished for him
the highest hopes, when he turns from the women of his own order to
one considered beneath him in station. But I did not view the subject
in this light then; and instead of declining his attentions, as I
perhaps should have done, I encouraged them--I loved him so dearly,
Nell!--and in spite of family opposition, Miles soon openly declared
his attachment.

"When his parents found they could not change his purpose, their
affection for him forced them into outward acquiescence, but their
reluctant condescension was gall and wormwood to me. I saw things only
from my own point of view, and was keenly sensitive to their politely
concealed disapprobation, and my offended vanity found its victim in
Miles. I belonged to the class who admit and resent slights, instead
of ignoring them, as do the higher bred, and I thought he would not
see those offered to me. I grew cold and formal to him. He was very
patient, but his ways were not mine, and my manner puzzled and annoyed
him. Our relations soon became strained, and the trifle necessary for
an open quarrel was easily supplied.

"One evening I went to a large At Home given by his mother. I knew but
few and, as Miles was necessarily busy with his social duties to her
guests, I was, after the first hurried greeting, left unattended for a
time. Not being accustomed to such functions, I resented this as a
covert insult and, in a fit of jealous pique, I blush to own that I
took the revenge of a peasant maid and entered into a marked
flirtation with Fred Currie, who had paid me some attention before my
engagement. When Miles was at liberty to seek me, h